William Bernhardt - Murder One

“Yeah. I saw him almost every day, till he got shifted over to the Catrona investigation.”

“Did you feel that you knew Sergeant McNaughton well?”

“Like he was my brother.”

“Were you in contact with him prior to his death?”

“Constantly. We weren’t working together, but we saw each other around. And we talked.”

LaBelle turned a page in his notebook, signaling to the jury that he was moving on to a new and more interesting subject. “Were you aware that Sergeant McNaughton was engaged in a, uh, liaison with Keri Dalcanton?”

“Oh sure. Lots of the boys knew about her. I was at the club the night he met her.”

“And you were aware that the two developed a … relationship? A sexual relationship.”

“Sure.” Bailey shifted his bulky frame. “He told me about it. Repeatedly.”

“What did he say?”

“Objection, hearsay.” Ben knew he was going to get creamed, but he had to make the gallant effort, just the same.

“Your honor,” LaBelle explained tiredly, as if Ben’s petty little objections were the most wearisome thing in the world, “as with Corporal Wesley, these statements come from the deceased, a witness who is obviously unavailable, and given the circumstances surrounding the statements and the utter absence of any motivation for falsehood, I ask that the court accept these statements as evidence just as it did the previous ones.”

“Your honor,” Ben jumped in, “these statements are different because—”

Too late. “I’ll allow it,” Judge Cable said, cutting him off. “Overruled.”

LaBelle nodded toward his witness. “You may answer the question.”

Bailey did. “Basically, he said she was a pistol. A real hot potato. Always ready and eager to please. He liked that.”

Well, who wouldn’t, Ben wondered. Except, perhaps, McNaughton’s widow. A quick glance into the gallery told him she wasn’t pleased at all.

“Did he have any concerns regarding the relationship?”

“Well, I know he worried a little about her age. She claimed she was eighteen, but she was awful young looking, and he didn’t want to get into any trouble with the law.”

How noble, Ben thought. Of course, this concern didn’t stop him from dropping by her apartment every night for another go with the whips and chains.

“Did he have any other concerns?”

“Yeah. More than once he told me that he was worried about … well, this is kinda delicate.”

“I understand it’s hard to talk about private matters you were told in secret,” LaBelle said. “But I must assure you, it’s for the best. Please answer the question.”

“Well,” Bailey said, his massive frame drooping a bit, “he did tell me he was worried about Keri’s … fondness for violence.”

“For violence?” LaBelle said, as if surprised. “Was she violent?”

“Oh, yeah. Well, you can understand, if you’ve seen those pictures …” He nodded toward the graphic exhibits resting on the edge of the judge’s bench. “Or if you’d heard Joe talk about … some of the things she liked to do. Really weird stuff. Weird and violent.”

“Was her taste for violence restricted to sexual activities?”

“Unfortunately, no. I think Joe could’ve lived with that. He didn’t like it, but it was worth it to get … well, you know. But it wasn’t just the kinky sex. She had a horrible temper—that’s what he told me. Said she used to fly off the handle with the least excuse, screamin’ and yellin’ and throwin’ things. Said she got all red in the face and crazy, like she totally lost her head or something. One time, she even came at him with a knife.”

Someone in the jury box gasped. The word knife had the effect for which LaBelle had undoubtedly been hoping.

Keri leaned close and whispered in Ben’s ear. “This is not how it happened. Not at all.”

Ben patted her hand. The time for explanations would come later.

“A knife?” LaBelle repeated, making sure every juror got it. “McNaughton told you she came at him with a knife?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Are you sure about this? It’s very important.”

“I’m sure. It’s not the sort of thing you’re likely to forget. Something about her wantin’ to go out barhoppin’, but he had to go home and do somethin’ with his wife, and she just lost it. Grabbed a knife out of the kitchen and tried to stop him. He said he thought she would’ve killed him if he hadn’t seen her comin’.”

“If he hadn’t seen her coming,” LaBelle murmured meaningfully. “That time.”

“Your honor!” Ben said, jumping up.

Judge Cable nodded. “Mr. LaBelle, please stick to the questions and keep your comments to yourself.”

“Of course, your honor,” he said. “Sorry.” Although Ben did not detect much sorrow in his face or voice. He turned another page in his notebook. “Sergeant Bailey, did you have occasion to talk to Joe McNaughton in the early evening of the night he was killed?”

“Yes. I saw him at headquarters. We talked.”

“Did Sergeant McNaughton mention Ms. Dalcanton on this occasion?”

“Yes, he did.”

“What did he say?”

“Said there’d been a big blowup. With both his wife and his—Keri Dalcanton. Said his whole life was fallin’ apart all around him.”

“How so?”

Bailey inched ever so subtly toward the jury box. “I didn’t get all the details, but somehow, his wife found out about the affair. She was mad. She was talking about divorce, talking about takin’ him to the cleaners. As I think you know, Joe didn’t work for money—he was actually quite well off. At the same time, Keri Dalcanton was having a major tantrum, demanding that he come back to her, threatenin’ him.”

“Threatening him?”

“Oh yeah. In no uncertain terms. Joe told me she said that if he dumped her, he’d be very sorry.”

Ben heard Keri whispering under her breath. “It isn’t true. I didn’t even know yet.”

Christina cautioned her to remain quiet.

“He would be sorry,” LaBelle repeated. “What exactly did that mean, Sergeant?”

“Joe didn’t know. But given her fondness for violence, he was worried about it.”

“Was there anything else?”

“Yeah. When he told her that his wife knew and all, she apparently went kinda crazy. Started screamin’ and shoutin’ and spittin’. Throwin’ things at him. He said he finally had to leave. She was nuts—screamin’ the same word over and over again.”

“Indeed. And what was that word?”

Bailey took a deep breath before answering. “ Faithless. That’s what she called him. That’s what she said over and over again. Faithless. ”

Ben watched the reaction on the jurors’ faces as they heard the dreaded magic word. The word the killer had painted on McNaughton’s chest in his own blood.

LaBelle pivoted and gave Keri a long look—thus inviting the jury to do the same.

A considerable period of time elapsed before he spoke again. “I have no more questions, your honor.”

As Ben scrambled to the podium, he could think of at least ten different ways to start the cross of this witness. But he had to pick one. And it needed to be the right one, because the testimony this man delivered had been keenly incriminating.

Ben cranked up the volume so he could be sure his first question hit home. “Have you been following me?”

Bailey blinked several times rapidly. “I … excuse me?”

“You heard the question. Have you been following me?”

“I … uh … I don’t know what …” Ben was pleased—and relieved—to see the witness stumbling around. Evidently he had managed to choose the one subject on which LaBelle had not known to prepare him.